In the old days, when all wild beasts were less shy than at present,
there was more danger from the cougar; and this was especially true
in the dark canebrakes of some of the southern States where the man
a cougar was most likely to encounter was a nearly naked and unarmed
negro. General Hampton tells me that near his Mississippi plantation,
many years ago, a negro who was one of a gang engaged in building a
railroad through low and wet ground was waylaid and killed by a cougar
late one night as he was walking alone through the swamp.
I knew two men in Missoula who were once attacked by cougars in a very
curious manner. It was in January, and they were walking home through
the snow after a hunt, each carrying on his back the saddle, haunches,
and hide of a deer he had slain. Just at dusk, as they were passing
through a narrow ravine, the man in front heard his partner utter a
sudden loud call for help. Turning, he was dumbfounded to see the man
lying on his face in the snow, with a cougar which had evidently just
knocked him down standing over him, grasping the deer meat; while
another cougar was galloping up to assist.
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